Trapped Within Your Mind
by coltostallion
Summary: AU. The Seigaku Asylum is a well renowned facility, but all places have their little secrets. Kirihara is the head doctor of the asylum, but he has his own ideas when it comes to the patients of the asylum. Rated for angst and later shounenai.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis, someone else does . . . TT

The halls were quiet. They were always quiet, never a noise to break the monotony of the day. If he hadn't been crazy before, this place would have pushed him off the deep end. Echizen Ryoma was a recently admitted inmate in the infamous Seigaku Asylum for the Tennis Insane. Even though he had insisted he was perfectly normal, they had asked weird questions about his cat then drug him to a straight jacket and a padded room.

Ryoma lay on his back, as that was the only comfortable position one could achieve while wearing a straight jacket. He had already counted the number of padded tiles on the ceiling, walls, and floor countless times and was once again indescribably bored.

There was a noise from the door. Ryoma would have sat up if that was at all possible, but it took effort to do without the use of one's arms. So he simply waited until the doctor stood over him.

"Hullo. . .," Ryoma squinted, trying to read the name upside down, "Doctor Kirihara."

"Hello-," the doctor peered at his clipboard, "Patient 4M45-4M0Y2."

"My name is Echizen Ryoma," Ryoma said from the floor.

"Of course it is," the doctor made a note on his clipboard, "Now tell me about this 'Karupin' character."

"Karupin is my cat, not a character," Ryoma blinked up at the doctor.

"I see," he made another note, "How long have you been seeing this cat?"

"We got him when I was little if that's what you mean," Ryoma glared.

"Have you seen any other animals?" the doctor asked.

"Of course I do," Ryoma was confused, "Fish in the fish market, birds in the park, what do you expect?"

"I expect nothing, 4M45," the doctor smiled down at him.

"My name is Ryoma," he insisted.

"Of course it is 4M45," With that Doctor Kirihara left him alone once more in the pressing silence.

"1 ceiling tile, 2 ceiling tiles, 3 . . ."

"Why am I in here, Doctor?"

"We are here to help you, N4HC-0M0M."

"Help me with what? And its Momo," the spiky-haired teen told the doctor for the what seemed to be the millionth time.

"Of course, N4HC. Now take your medicine," Doctor Kirihara held out a small paper cup, pills jangling inside of it.

"I don't think you understand, doctor. I don't need medicine. There is nothing wrong with me," Momo insisted.

"I have evidence of you acting like a duck," The doctor said, consulting his clipboard.

"That was because of that weird stuff you gave me before!" Momo was outraged.

"Was it now," It was clear the doctor wasn't even paying attention, so Momo slumped up against the wall of the padded room he had been locked in.

"N4HC, please take your medicine," Kirihara held out the cup once more.

"If I do, will you leave me alone?" Momo growled.

"Of course I will, now be a good boy and take your medicine," Momo grabbed the cup away from the doctor angrily and quickly swallowed its contents.

"There, ya happy! Now . . . weeb me . . . awon . . . ," Doctor Kirihara smiled down as his patient slowly lost sanity.

He was surrounded by darkness. His hands were questing for solidity, but felt nothing. His eyes scanned the darkness, his ears straining for a hint of sound. Acid-like tears burned gouges into his cheeks, his skin smoking.

"No!" Momo scratched at his face, trying to rub away the burning tears. "NOOOOOO!"

He sat bolt upright, his heart pounding an uneven tempo against his ribcage. His breath ripped out of his lungs like knives. Momoshiro was strangely comforted by the sight of the familiar padded room. Strange when an insane asylum became your link to sanity.

"You are crazy."

Momo spun. There was someone else in the room! A boy maybe a year younger than him with eyes of burnished gold sporting a straight jacket.

"I'm not the one in the straight jacket," Momo growled.

"Now now, boys. Don't fight!" Doctor Kirihara entered the cell with his usual flourish, "Starting from now you two are going to be rooming together as part of my group experimental rehabilitation."

"Doctor, I'm not crazy. Please," Momo pleaded but the doctor merely looked at him like he was a small child, patted him on the head and left. The door locked with a solid click before the room descended into silence.

"So you're N4HC? That's a dumb name," the boy in the straight jacket said suddenly. Momo jumped, he had forgotten the kid was there.

"My name is Momo," he growled.

"The doctor says you think your name is Momo," the boy cocked his head, "He says you think you are a peach."

"I do not think I am a fruit!" Momo yelled. The boy just shrugged.

"Would make sense, I guess," he mumbled, "Were you trying to peel yourself in your sleep?" Momo growled and refused to answer the obvious psychopath sitting across from him.

"Doctor Kirihara," the doctor turned to meet his assistant.

"Ah, Kunimitsu, how may I help you?" Kirihara smiled.

"I was delivering the medicine for block C and noticed that one of the patients is missing," Tezuka said stoically.

"Ah, Patient N1J-U57UK4," the doctor smiled. Tezuka checked his clipboard.

"Indeed," he nodded, "I was wondering where the patient has been transferred so I can change the files."

"N1J has been released," the doctor smiled warmly.

Tezuka frowned, "Released, doctor? I thought you said he was still emotionally unstable." Tezuka checked his notes for confirmation. The doctor laughed.

"N1J's emotional capacity is still limited, but I released him to a different sort of rehabilitation," Kirihara smiled.

"Don't they need his paperwork?" Tezuka asked.

Kirihara chuckled, "No, I don't think they will." With that he smiled and left his assistant.

Tezuka stood in the middle of the hall for a while longer before returning to his rounds. There were new patients to be analyzed and filed and the doctor had entrusted him with an entire block of them.

Block S was as dimly lit as the rest of the asylum, but Tezuka always thought it felt colder than the rest of the compound. He pulled his white lab coat tighter around him as he walked. He checked his clipboard for his first appointment.

Patient #: 3KU5-UUY5

Room #: Block S Room 13

Tezuka arrived at the designated room and opened the door slowly, wary of the mental state of its occupant. When no one came charging at him foaming at the mouth, he entered the room and closed the door.

In the corner of the room a young man was watching him.

"Patient 3KU5?" silly question, who else would it be?

"I believe that is what the kind doctor wrote on some paperwork," the brown-haired man smiled, "But you may call me Fuji Syuusuke."

"I think I will stick to your designated number, 3KU5," Tezuka frowned.

"Whichever you would prefer, I suppose," the man leaned against the padded wall of his cell, "I would personally prefer a name to a number. Names are so much more personal, don't you think?"

Tezuka ignored the question, "Have you been experiencing any nausea or dizziness as a side effect to any of you medications?"

"No," the man smiled again, it made Tezuka quite uncomfortable.

"Any diarrhea or upset stomach?"

"No," the smile remained in place.

"Any constipation or fati-"

"I have not been experiencing any unusual side effects to any off the medications I am receiving. Though I am not entirely sure why I am receiving said medications," the man interrupted.

"Do you know where you are?" Tezuka asked the question as if it were routine, though this meeting seemed to be anything but.

"The Seigaku Asylum if I recall correctly," he said after a moment.

"That is correct. And you do realize that if you are in an asylum it is easily assumable that you are in need of the care of such a facility?" Tezuka said in his no-nonsense voice.

"I do," Fuji . . . no, 3KU5 said.

"Then what questions could you have as to the reason you are receiving medication?" Tezuka asked.

"Does everyone require medication?" 3KU5 asked.

"Everyone in this facility receives medication at le-"

"Not in this asylum. I meant outside of it," the patient interrupted.

"They do not," Tezuka said, confused.

"And why do they not?" the smiling man prodded.

"They do not require medication," Tezuka said slowly.

"And why do they not require it?"

"Because they are mentally sound," Tezuka frowned.

"And you do not think I am mentally sound?" the patient asked.

"I do not see why you would be in this compound if you were sane," Tezuka said simply.

"But there is the catcher," he smiled, "Only those who are insane are delusional enough to believe themselves sane. People in their right mind know very well that they are not 100 sound mentally."

Tezuka blinked, his mind running over and over the words as he tried to make sense of them.

"I think you are mistaken," he said slowly, still running the words over in his mind.

"Am I? How interesting," the patient smiled, "Were there any other questions you needed to ask me?"

"Er . . . no," Tezuka left the room quickly, disconcerted by the lucidity of the patients gaze.

AN: This is such crack . . . I don't know if there will be another chapter


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own prince of tennis. I do own Fuji's soul . . . ok so I don't own that either

The fluorescent lights made a soft buzz as they shut down. The sound was almost comforting to Kaidoh Kaoru as he made his rounds through the asylum, checking the doors and alarm systems. He loved how quiet the hallways were as he locked up, happy that all the rooms were soundproofed. Having to deal with the insanity he faced during the day was enough; he didn't want to have to deal with it at night.

As he turned the last corner, he noticed a light. Frowning, he followed the illicit light to largest of the on-site labs. The light was spilling the door which stood slightly ajar. Kaidoh peeked through the door, suddenly cautious.

A tall man in one of the uniform lab coats stood with his back to the door. A bottle of some unknown liquid boiled beside him as he measured out an equally unnamable ingredient.

Kaidoh watched for a little, waiting for the man to finish whatever he was doing before he interrupted him. It wouldn't do to have the newly cleaned floors dirtied.

"Excuse me, sir," Kaidoh stepped into the room. The man in the lab coat spun.

"Who are you? What are you doing here? Do you have authorization?" he asked.

"I should be asking you," Kaidoh growled, "This room was closed though, so I assume you have a key and thus must assume you work here. You'll have to leave now, though, I have to lock up."

The man's expression was unreadable behind his thick square glasses, but Kaidoh was patient.

"My name is Inui Sadaharu."

Kaidoh was taken aback, "Psssh! Er . . . hello?"

Inui waited, watching.

Kaidoh shifted his weight to his other foot, "Is there something wrong?"

"When someone tells you their name, one usually responds in turn," Inui smiled. Kaidoh flushed, he always strived to be polite to everyone.

"Kaidoh . . . Kaidoh Kaoru," he muttered.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Kaidoh," Inui smiled.

"Psssh. . . Likewise," Kaidoh looked away, "Now if you are done I would like to finish locking up."

"I was hoping to finish this new juice tonight," Inui said hesitantly.

"When do you get here in the morning?" Kaidoh asked suddenly.

"Five," Inui cocked his head, confused by the question. Kaidoh simply shook his head.

"You will not be productive unless you get the proper amount of sleep," he said simply, "If you want this 'juice' or whatever to turn out correctly you should go home and sleep." Inui stared at him for a moment_. He has good reason to,_ Kaidoh realized, I _had just tried to kick a scientist out of a lab I don't even own._

"I think I will do just that," Kaidoh blinked.

"Huh?" Inui smiled, taking off his lab coat and replacing it with a light jacket.

"I said I think I will go home and get some sleep," he repeated, still smiling.

"Psssh. G…good for you," Kaidoh said, he felt strangely awkward.

"Well, good night," Inui swept past him toward the exit.

"Good night," Kaidoh mumbled.

Ryoma stared up at the ceiling. It must be night, he realized, because he couldn't even hear the buzz that came from the fluorescent lights in the hall.

"Its night," he told no one in particular.

"So?" Ryoma almost wet himself before he remembered the psychopath he was rooming with now.

"So its night," Ryoma growled, trying to ignore his roommate.

There was a moment of silence, then, "How do you know?"

"You can't hear the lights in the hall," Ryoma explained.

"Can't hear the . . . You _hear_ lights!"

"You can hear the ones in the hall." Ryoma explained

"How? Can you see the smells in the air too," his roommate sneered.

Ryoma resisted the urge to beat the other senseless, a goal made easy by the straight jacket that constricted his arm to the point where he couldn't even poke the other let alone punch him, "They buzz."

"Smells buzz?"

Ryoma counted to ten before answering, "No, the lights do."

"Why do they buzz?"

"Shouldn't you be sleeping or something," he snapped.

"No, I'm not tired."

"Well maybe I am!" he growled.

"Your not, you slept all day."

"That doesn't mean I'm not tired!"

"Well are you?"

". . . No, but that's not the point."

"Yes it is!"

"No its not!"

"Is too!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Is not!"

". . . Thank you."

"Is no- what?"

"I said thank you." Ryoma turned his head so he could see his roommate. The other was sitting in the opposite corner, eyes fixed on his feet as he spoke.

"For what?" Ryoma asked, turning to face him a little better.

"For talking to me," he glanced up for a second then his gaze returned to his socks. Ryoma stared at him. What else would he do? Talk to himself?

"Your welcome," Ryoma slumped up against the corner of the room, suddenly tired.

Momo smiled, lying down. The one good thing about padded rooms was you didn't have to be picky about where you slept.

Maybe it was the edge of sleep creeping over his consciousness, but as he started to fall asleep, he could have sworn he heard a soft "thank you".

Tezuka checked the clipboard again, reading and rereading scientific terms as he cross referenced them to the computer. But try as he might, he couldn't pinpoint patient 3KU5's disorder.

"Tezuka! How unusual," Tezuka turned to see Inui, the asylum's head chemist in the doorway, "Usually you just ask for information instead of troubling yourself, is something the matter?"

Tezuka shook his head, more to clear it than in denial, "I was just cross referencing a patient's chart."

"Oh? Which patient?" Inui sat down at his desk and booted up his master computer.

"3KU5-UUY5," Tezuka told him, he didn't even need to look at the clipboard, he couldn't forget his encounter with said patient.

Inui's fingers flew across the keyboard, Tezuka walked over to stand behind Inui so he could see the screen over his shoulder. A picture of a smiling brown-haired man appeared on the screen.

"That's him," Tezuka read the basic information provided beside it, "Height: 167 cm. Blood type: B. This isn't helpful, Inui."

Inui's fingers danced with the keyboard again, a new window popped up filled with information. Tezuka scanned the page until a passage caught his eye.

Patient suffers from delusional paranoia and schizophrenia. He seems to know where he is and why; one can only imagine what excuse his mind has derived for this. He should be regarded as unstable and treated with caution. Not to be allowed near…

Tezuka frowned. Perhaps he had merely mistaken a well-developed imaginary world for true sanity. Somehow, though, he doubted it. There had been something in 3KU5's eyes that chased any thought that he was that far gone from Tezuka's head.

". . . In a patient," Tezuka realized Inui had been talking to him.

"Sorry, what?"

"I said, it's unusual for you to be taking this much interest in a patient," Inui repeated, "Is there something wrong?"

"No. . . Well yes," Tezuka hated being unsure. He sat down heavily in one of the uncomfortable lab chairs and immediately regretted it, "It's just that he doesn't seem to be out of touch, let alone schizophrenic."

"That happens," Inui sat back in his own, more comfortable, chair, "It's sometimes hard to tell the difference between a person you meet on the street and someone in need of psychiatric care."

"But this is different," Tezuka said helplessly, "It's like he knows where he is and why he's there!"

"That is possible," Inui said soothingly, "But he doesn't really know, his world just happened to correspond with where he was really."

"It's not like that!" Inui froze. Tezuka never raised his voice, he rarely showed any emotion whatsoever, but here he was bursting with frustration to the point of yelling over one patient.

"Maybe you should request the patient be taken out of your jurisdiction," Inui said slowly.

"What?" Tezuka's eyes were uncommonly hard as he turned his gaze to face the doctor.

"It's just that I've never seen you so worked up over a patient! You can't let them effect you like that," Inui said slowly.

"You haven't talked to him, Inui," Tezuka was almost pleading, "He's sane. I know it."

"Why is he in here then?" Inui tried to appeal to his colleague's common sense.

"I . . . I don't know," Tezuka shook his head.

Inui frowned. Tezuka was a great doctor. He had graduated top of his class from a prestigious psychological institute and had proved his prowess number times in the field. What could get him so disheveled? Was it even remotely possible that this patient was sane? Inui shook his head, banishing the thoughts. Kirihara was also a well-renowned psychologist and each of the patients in the institution were there because he believed they needed to be. There could be no room for question.

"I don't know what to tell you, Tezuka," Inui said, "He wouldn't be in here if he didn't need to be."

Tezuka just shook his head, "I have rounds to make," he left the lab quickly.

AN: Hahahaha a cliff-hangerish ending. O.o


	3. Chapter 3

Queen Momoko: Thank you very much! You'll just have to keep reading to find out the truth behind the asylum though. I

Silver Sniper: Thank you for your review, I have been trying to make Kirihara more in character, but I think he's coming off as nice ;;;

Alaena Flame Dragonstar: Thanks for the support! I hope this chapter helps explain some stuff.

Really Bad Eggs: Very few people have noticed that actually, good job!

Kloudy Reignfall: I had trouble keeping it serious, there's just so much you can do with the regulars in an insane asylum, so its perfectly understandable that some of the scenes still have a bit of humor in them. Thank you very much for your suggestion, I hope this chapter is easier to read.

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis; I am still working on Fuji's soul though

Kaidoh turned the corner and headed toward the main laboratory, not even remotely surprised to see the light was still on. He tapped on the door before entering to make sure Inui wouldn't drop something dangerous.

"Inui-sensei," he said, stepping into the room.

"Ah, Kaidoh, I am just finishing up, really," Inui smiled, "And there is no reason for you to call me 'sensei'."

"Pssssh," Kaidoh shook his head, "How long have you been working?"

"Uh . . . erm, well you see-"

"Go home," Kaidoh interrupted him, "You really should spend more time at home. Doesn't your family worry? Your wife?"

"I'm not married," Inui smiled, "I wouldn't dream of putting a woman through my long hours."

"Maybe if you didn't work so much you could get a girl," Kaidoh sat down on one of the counters.

"I highly doubt that," Inui shook his head and continued to pour chemicals.

"Why?" Kaidoh cocked his head as he watched the concoction bubble suddenly.

"I'm not the type girls like," Inui smiled, "They prefer the handsome guy with money and free time to spend on and with them."

"Not all of them," Kaidoh pointed out, "I'm sure you could find someone."

Inui shook his head, "What about you? You work later than I do."

"Pssssh," Kaidoh stared at the now pink liquid in the beaker Inui was holding, then, "I'm not married and I get enough rest."

"As do I," he laughed, "You do not need to worry about me, Kaoru."

"I'm not worried," Kaidoh said hurriedly, "You just make my job harder!"

Inui said nothing, merely stared at Kaidoh for a moment before returning his attention to the beaker in his hand.

"I...I didn't mean it like that! That came out wrong! I-"

"There is no need to apologize, Kaidoh," the sudden return to formality hit him like a physical blow.

"Inui . . . I didn't mean . . ."

"I will be done here soon, don't worry," Kaidoh could only watch mutely as Inui cleaned up and began packing his stuff away.

"Inui . . ."

"Have a nice night, officer," and with that he was gone.

"There are the same number of pads in this cell as there were in mine," Momo considered smacking his head against the wall before he remembered they were padded and it wouldn't make a difference.

"So?" he growled.

"So this cell is the same size as my old one," the other said.

"_So?_"

"So shouldn't they put two people in a bigger cell than one person?"

"No! They . . . what?" Momo blinked and sat up. The little runt had said something that made sense!

"I said, shouldn-"

"I know what you said, I was just . . . surprised. That's all," Momo ran a hand through his hair.

"Why? It makes sense," the boy said, frowning.

_Exactly_, he thought, out loud though he said, "Well, I just hadn't thought of it."

"Oh," the boy turned back to the ceiling, the only thing he could really look at while lying on his back.

"Isn't that uncomfortable?" Momo asked.

"What?" the boy turned his head so he could see his roommate.

"Lying like that," Momo explained.

"How would you suggest I lay?" Momo thought

"Why do you have a straight jacket anyway? Did you try to kill yourself or something?" he asked suddenly. The other boy glared at him.

"No I did not, they just put it on me," he shrugged.

"Well then take it off," Momo said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"How," Oh . . . well that put a kink in his plans.

"Er . . . well Houdini did it," he scratched the back of his head.

"Houdini also escaped a water chamber, would you like to attempt that while I get out of this?" the boy glared.

"Er . . . well . . .not really," He grimaced, "There's gotta be a way to get you out of that thing though."

Ryoma counted quickly to a hundred, "You could undo the straps yourself." He said through gritted teeth.

" . . . HEY! That's a good idea!" It was Ryoma's turn to realize the walls were padded and banging his head against them would do nothing.

Momo rolled Ryoma over without ceremony and proceeded to pull at a rope he found on the boy's back.

"YOUR TIGHTENING IT, BAKA," the boy yelled, his voice muffled by the padding his face was shoved in.

"Oops . . . how do you get it off?"

"Try the buckle, baka."

"I'm not a baka!"

"Baka."

"Do you want me to help you or not?"

" . . ."

"I thought so," Momo unbuckled the buckle at the back and released Ryoma's arms which made unzipping the back fairly easy.

"Thanks, baka," Momo hit him upside the head.

"Do you think the doctor will notice?" he asked suddenly.

"He'd have to be a baka like you not to," the boy pointed out. He smoothed down his much wrinkled Pro Tennis Tour shirt.

"Quit calling me a baka!"

"Baka."

Tezuka paused outside of room 13 before unlocking the door and entering, he was apprehensive about what today's visit would reveal about the mental stability of his patient.

On the one hand he wanted his patient to be sane, as would any doctor. On the other, he wanted to believe Doctor Kirihara. If this patient was sane then why had Kirihara admitted him to the asylum? It didn't make any sense no matter which angle he looked at it from. He should know; he had been considering the issue from every possible angle since his last visit.

He had lost sleep over it as well, Inui had noticed but didn't comment except to make sure he was still eating healthy and providing supplements in the form of bizarre juices he whipped up after hours. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen any of those juices since the day before last. It seemed as though Inui were clocking out on time actually. Tezuka made a mental note to check on that.

"Ah, Doctor Tezuka, how are you?" the patient greeted him with his usual smile, a smile Tezuka had never seen falter even on the surveillance video.

"I'm good, and how are you, 3KU5?" he asked politely.

"Saa, I am in good health, I suppose, but I am quite bored," the honey-haired man answered. "There is very little to do in a room such as this one, though I'm sure it has its uses, ne?"

"I could probably get you some mental stimulation," Tezuka thought, "Its often a part of therapy to have patients do simple then more complex puzzles so I'm sure I could arrange something." Tezuka made a note on his clipboard.

"That's all very nice, doctor, but what about physical stimulation?" the man smiled up at him.

Was it just him or was that smile wider? Tezuka blinked.

"Surely physical stimulation is just as important as mental stimulation for an active person," the patient said sweetly.

"Indeed," Tezuka shook his head clear; it was the same smile, surely. "I will look into using one of the exercise facilities, but I don't know if you will be granted permission to leave your cell."

"Saa, perhaps you could arrange something either way?"

Tezuka had no idea what he was talking about, so chose to ignore this last part. He had other patients to see, he had to be diligent if he expected Kirihara to give him extra time and liberties to run tests on a patient.

"I have to go now, but I will return at a later time," Tezuka informed him.

"Saa, alright. I suppose I don't really have a choice in the matter anyway, ne?" the patients smiled, "Have a nice day, Doctor Tezuka-kun."

"You would like what?" Kirihara leaned back in his chair to regard the doctor in front of him.

"Permission to runs some tests on one of the patients in my block," Tezuka repeated.

"What kind of tests do you wish to run? What do you hope to discover, Tezuka?"

Tezuka had carefully planned this out to have the highest possible success rate, or at least Inui had planned it out. "I wish to delve deeper into the patient's psyche," he explained, "The particular patient I would like to test one had a unique disorder that I believe studying would help us to understand other serious mental conditions that we don't have much information on."

"Oh? And what patient would this be?"

"Patient 3UK5-UUY5, sir."

"You do realize that that particular patient, though he appears almost sane, is deeply troubled and could possibly be severely damaged by too much meddling in his personal world?" Kirihara said coldly.

"I do, doctor," Tezuka said demurely, "I do not have any intention of trying to cure him, merely to study his capacity and in turn use the information to better diagnose patients suffering from similar ailments."

There was no way he was going to fall for this! Inui had been very meticulous in his writing of the script, but it simply didn't make sense. There were plenty of perfectly good ways of diagnosing patients; Kirihara was an expert at that. Surely he would tell Tezuka to research in books instead of using his patients as science experiments!

"All right, Tezuka, I will grant you said privileges on the grounds that you do not attempt to cure the patient and realize that he is, indeed, insane no matter what he may lead you to believe," See! There was no way he was going to allow . . . what?

"O . . . of course, Doctor Kirihara.," Tezuka bowed respectfully and let himself out. He owed Inui big time.


End file.
